


Growing Boy

by trevorisscreaming



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medda is Jack's m o m, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, i have a lot of feelings so i make jack feel them, i'm not ok lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 04:26:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16946976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trevorisscreaming/pseuds/trevorisscreaming
Summary: Jack is, legally, without any parents. But what's on paper doesn't always reflect reality.





	Growing Boy

_**1893** _

Jack pounded his fist on the outside of the theater back door, shivering against a chilly guest of wind that blew against his back.

“Miss Medda? Are you here yet?” He shouted, voice squeaking.

No answer came, so he pulled the door open and walked inside. Miss Medda came in a moment later, welcoming smile on her face.

“I told you that you never have to knock, dear,” she said, extending her arms for a hug.

Jack took it willingly, relishing in her warmth. She clicked her tongue at him.

“You should be buying your papers at this time of day, Jack,” She scolded as she pulled back.

“I’m sick of doin’ that every day!” Jack groaned.

“Well, unless you plan on finding another job, you’ll have to. A growing boy has to eat,” She said, ruffling his hair. He shoved her hand away and smoothed it back as she laughed. “Did you walk all the way here from the lodge without your sweater?”

Jack perked up. “It doesn’t fit me any more! I grew.”

“Did you? Let’s see about that.”

“Yeah!” Jack cheered, rushing towards Medda’s dressing room.

When she caught up to him, he was already standing in place against the door frame. She chuckled and shook her head at him as she entered the dressing room to retrieve the small knife she’d been using to document Jack’s height. She approached him and flattened his hair with one hand, extending the knife to make a notch in the wood at the top of Jack’s head. He excitedly stepped back to look. Much to his excitement, there was a significant difference between this notch and the last one.

“See?! I told you so!”

“I see, dear, I see,” Medda said, smiling down at him. “I’ll have to get you a new sweater or coat.”

“I gave my old one to another boy at the lodge. He’s smaller than me,” Jack told her proudly.

“Good job,” She praised him. “Now go on and get your papers before it’s too late.”

Jack sighed. “How long am I gonna have to work?”

Something too quick for Jack to catch flashed across her face before her smile returned. “Oh, just a little while, dear. I’m sure things will be sorted out soon. Now shoo!”

Jack gave her a quick squeeze goodbye before dashing out of the theater.

-

_**1898** _

“Miss Medda? You still here?” Jack shouted over his shoulder. No response. “Miss Medda?”

Still nothing. He dunked his paint brush into his water and turned to cross the stage, making his way to the other wing. He stopped at the edge of it, peering into the darkness.

“Miss Medda?”

He wandered further backstage, calling her name intermittently. He concluded she must be in her dressing room for some reason and couldn’t hear him through the door, so he headed for that hall.

It had been a while since he’d been back here, but he remembered his way to her room. The light seeping from under her door indicated he had been right. But something caught his eye before he could knock. There were a series of notches carved into the door frame. Jack laughed out loud as the memories flooded over him suddenly. He reached out a careful hand, touching the highest notch. It was level with his waist.

The dressing room door swung open suddenly, Medda giving him a confused look.

“What are you just standing there for?”

“I was gonna knock, but I stopped ‘cause I was lookin’ at this here,” he gestured to the notches. “Remember doin’ this?”

Medda stepped out to see what he was pointing at, smiling wide when she did. She looked at him for a moment before stepping back into her dressing room to quickly return with a knife.

Jack laughed. “Aw, c'mon. I’m a little old for that now.”

“Shut up and put your back on that wall, boy,” She said, pointing the knife at him but smiling.

Jack held up his hands in a mock-fearful surrender. “Alright, alright,” He resigned as he shuffled towards the frame.

Medda smoothed his hair down like she used to and made the notch even with the top of his skull. Jack stepped back to admire her handiwork with her. He opened his mouth to speak as he looked over at her, but he stopped when he saw her tears.

“Wh- are you cryin’?” He asked, bewildered.

She laughed through her tears, looking up and fanning her face. “Sorry. Time really flies.”

Jack turned back to the door frame. He could remember when almost every one of them were carved. He brushed his fingers across the notch level with his navel. That was the last one his father had been present for. He stood still for a moment, remembering the proud smile, the congratulations on his growth. Jack slowly dragged his fingers higher to the notch he’d touched before, recalling when it was carved. He had only been a newsie for about two weeks then. He lifted his eyes to the new one then looked down again.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Sure does.”

Medda reached an arm around his waist from the side and he returned the gesture. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and squeezed him tighter, and Jack felt the growing ache subside.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment, I SURVIVE on them! My tumblr is @hopeful-broadwaybaby if you'd like to drop me an ask or say hello <3


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